


A Rather Nasty Curse

by Jade_Dragoness



Category: Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Fuck Or Die, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-02
Updated: 2008-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-18 23:23:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade_Dragoness/pseuds/Jade_Dragoness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marcone has been hit with a ‘fuck or die’ curse. Only it has a nasty twist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Rather Nasty Curse

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers up to 'Small Favor'  
> A/N: So I got struck with this idea rather hard a few months ago because this fandom hasn’t really indulged in the usual fandom clichés I think.

I was enjoying a rare quiet day, tucked into my couch with a good paperback and a cold Coke, feeling utterly lazy and content with my place in the universe when someone started pounding on the door of my apartment with the urgency of someone who really desperately wanted in.

So... probably not the pizza delivery guy.

Great. I had to go and tempt fate by being smug about my day off. I shot a glare at the ceiling before I grumbled and folded a page in the book to mark my place in it then setting it down on my couch. I’ve never been one for bookmarks.

I looked over at Mouse as I got to my feet but my dog, who also did time as a small gray fur covered mountain, kept sleeping away on his rug in front of the fireplace. If whatever was at the door wasn’t setting off his spidey-senses enough to wake him up then it wasn’t something evil wanting to eat my face. Probably.

Whoever it was, they hadn’t set off the warning spells I’d littered around the surrounding neighborhood of my building, either. So that was an added indication that it wasn't something supernatural.

Still, I approached cautiously. A friend would have called me beforehand. A client would have come to my office. Or left me a message through the number I advertised in the yellow pages. Thomas and Molly didn’t need to knock because they had keys. The only other option was an enemy or a complete random stranger.

I braced myself and tugged at the door which groaned with its usual noises of protest before reluctantly opening. The groans made me wince as they always did.

I hadn't let down the wards yet so I was pretty relaxed about facing what was on the other side without my blasting rod. And it helped that my staff was only a couple of feet away in its usual resting place in the popcorn bin by the door.

As it was I barely managed to suppress a panicked yell when I finally saw who was standing on my doorstep.

It was Marcone, Gentleman Johnny Marcone, mafia kingpin of Chicago and a good chunk of the rest of the United States. One of the deadliest persons I had the misfortune to know and had ever met. And he was standing here at my door, so my freaked out reaction was perfectly excusable.

Well, it's not the sort of thing that happens to me everyday, even in my life. That’s my excuse, and I’m sticking to it.

“Dresden,” Marcone’s voice was low and harsh. But his eyes, his pale green eyes looked strange. Sort of stunned and... and... ravenous.

He looked like his control was fraying. I had never seen him like that before. Even when Marcone had been kidnapped by Nicodemus he’d still been perfectly calm and unfazed. Not even being strung up over a huge pit to dangle as bait and waiting for monstrous loup-garou to arrive to eat him had destroyed his cool facade.

Hell, even when I’d caught him at his most vulnerable and shaken, in front of a long term care facility that held someone infinitely dear to him, he’d still managed to control himself and his impulse to kill me when he thought I posed a danger to her. The man’s soul was a freaking stainless steel fridge. He was that cold and controlled.

So, something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

“Dresden,” Marcone said again, his voice growing raw. “Let me in.”

The desperate tone of Marcone’s voice had me very worried, as I said there aren’t many things that get to him. For something to scare him so badly it had to be so bad on a monumental scale that my mind boggled trying to imagine it.

And I’ve seen some incredibly horrific things in my life.

I was just starting to wonder where in the hell Marcone’s bodyguards were, as I lowered the wards, when Marcone launched himself across the threshold at me.

My eyes widened and I tried to grope for my staff but I couldn’t reach it in time, those last couple of feet might of well have been miles considering how fast Marcone could move.

He slammed into me and I closed my eyes. I braced myself for something, for a knife, or for hands around my throat. Something.

But all I felt was a kiss. A kiss that was hard, hungry and unrelenting.

My senses were instantly overwhelmed. Whatever else you could say about John Marcone, he was one hellavu good kisser. And God, I could feel how incredibly turned on Marcone was from the way he was pressed up against me.

I was stunned. For a moment, all I did was stand there and let him kiss me. I just couldn’t move for what seemed like an eternity.

I flailed my arms and my squeak of surprise was muffled against Marcone's mouth, before getting a hold of myself and managing to shove Marcone away, just far enough to stagger out of his reach.

Okay, what I said before about expecting mob bosses on my doorstep? Expecting same mob boss to kiss me breathless is even lower on the expectancy list. Hell, it was so unexpected it hadn't even made the list. At that point, I wouldn’t be surprised if the pink dancing elephants started showing up.

What exactly had been in that soda can I’d been drinking? I thought the addition of illegal substances had already been outlawed and taken out of soft drinks by the time I was born.

I took another step back but Marcone was just too freaking fast. I was quick on my feet for a guy of my size but Marcone made me look sluggish and clumsy.

This time Marcone’s pounce drove me down onto my floor and I swore in surprise. I’ve never been more grateful that I kept the concrete floors thickly carpeted otherwise that would have hurt. Only throwing out my arms to absorb the impact kept me from bruising.

Thank you, falling lessons from Murphy.

I tried to twist out of his grasp but he must have gotten more fighting lessons than me because Marcone managed to suppress them with ease and used his knees to lock my legs down. Marcone also used his body weight to keep me from buckling him off, and his hands were holding down my forearms so I couldn't even leverage him off.

He looked down, and that’s when I made a small mistake, because I opened my mouth to yell at him to get off. And he kissed me again. With the same desperate and deep hunger.

I was starting to suspect a theme here.

A not-so-happy suspicion about his actions was starting to grow in my mind. But that’s when Marcone chose to start attacking my clothes, while still managing to hold me down with one hand. The strength of him startled me. While I may have a few inches on the guy, Marcone definitely had more muscle packed onto his frame than me. I also wasn’t used to being kissed by many people who were strong to subdue a guy my size, especially not with one hand.

The last person had been Susan and she’s been tied up at the time so her super-strength and urge to bite me wouldn’t hurt me. Or her.

An idea struck me. I managed to move head enough to get my mouth away from Marcone’s kiss which broke off with a really obscene wet pop. It didn’t stop him. He just sucked the curved edge of my, now available, ear into his hot mouth.

I went cross-eyed for a moment. I shook it off, and with the little breath I had left after being kissed so intensively, I focused and gasped out, “Manacus.”

A silver rope that glittered electric blue slithered up from my lab and wound itself around Marcone. He was so wrapped up in pressing biting kisses to my neck, he didn’t notice.

I focused my will. “Forzare!”

Well, he definitely noticed when the rope yanked him back onto an armchair, tied him to it and used the last foot length to secure his hands.

I lay on the floor, panting and feeling ravaged. My jeans were undone and Marcone had just started to get his hand down them when I called for the rope. I shook my head to try to control myself.

“Harry,” Marcone growled deeply.

Wow.

How in the hell did he manage to make my name sound so sexy? He gave it just right amount of ‘grr’ that it tingled down my spine instead of chilling it. It was the sort of skill I’ve only seen White Court vampires manage to pull off. And even then the creepy ’they-want-to-eat-me-and-not-in-a-fun-way’ factor killed the tingle pretty damn fast.

“Don‘t call me that,” I said weakly. I managed to get myself to my wobbly feet after a little pep talk to my legs to convince them not to buckle.

Marcone was looking me up and down in that way that let me know that he was mentally undressing me and the fierce way he was tugging at the rope said that he was also very much looking forward to doing it for real. I tried not to squeak again, and with my cheeks turning red, I zipped up my pants and tugged my shirt down so that it would cover my groin. Not that it was much of a shield against Marcone’s eyes but it made me feel less exposed.

My timing was perfect for once because that’s when a tall blonde Amazon named Gard walked into my apartment through the still open door and still downed wards.

Well, limped in was a more accurate verb.

My eyebrows rose, but before I could comment, Hendricks followed her in. He was sporting a set of the nastiest black eyes I’ve ever seen anyone wear. And I was counting myself in that pool of injured. If you knew anything about my history of getting injured, you’d know that was saying something.

“What the hell happened to you?” I asked them both in fascination while trying to ignore the heated looks Marcone was still sending me.

Hendricks was a small mountain of muscle topped off with a peak of red hair cut to a military buzz. And Gard was true blue Valkyrie, whom I’d seen fight after being practically disemboweled, and putting herself together with super glue and sheer grit.

Anything that tangled with both of them and managed to injure them wasn’t something I wanted to mess with.

“It was Mr. Marcone,” Gard answered me, as she looked around and caught sight of her tied up boss. Hendricks and she both looked relieved to see him in one piece.

While I just about fell over in shock from her words.

“No way.” Marcone would rather lose an arm than hurt someone in his pay. His employees were some of the best protected law-breakers in the country. At least, anyone who was loyal to him. If they were trying to take him down, that’s another story. Then not even a nuclear bunker could save you from him.

“Dresden,” Gard snapped. “He‘s not in his right mind at the moment. Or haven‘t you noticed?”

My lips, and other parts of me, tingled with memory of Marcone‘s intense kisses and warm touches.

“Oh, I noticed,” I muttered.

The looks Gard and Hendricks gave me damn near made me squirm in embarrassment. I managed to resist the urge but I had the feeling my still redden cheeks gave me away. I cleared my throat and did my best to ignore their expressions. “So, will someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?”

That’s the moment Mouse chose to pop his head into view from behind the couch. I grumbled at him. “Oh, now you wake up, fur face. Some guard dog you are.”

His pink tongue rolled out in that doggie smile and I knew my dog was laughing at me. I have the feeling my day is only going to get worse from here on out. It usually did.

Gard stepped past me towards Marcone.

“Err, I wouldn't,” I said, making her pause.

“I want to check him over,” Gard told me, tension in her shoulders.

“Okay, but don't loosen the rope,” I said, “I don‘t think I‘ll be able to catch him twice with it.” Have I mentioned how fast Marcone moves? I didn’t want to test my rope against him when he knew it was coming and had a chance to get a hold of any of the numerous knives he carries on his person. The chances of me getting enough unicorn hair to make another one where pretty slim right now.

The Summer Court of the Sidhe and I are not on the friendliest terms at the moment. It’s a long story.

She nodded and knelt by the chair.

Marcone gave her a cool glance, before turning his gaze back to me. The heat flooded his eyes again. I squirmed and turned away only to catch Hendricks giving me an uneasy look and from the way his fingers twitched I could tell he wanted to pull his boss out of there. Or pull a gun on me. It could go either way with him.

I scowled at Hendricks.

The faster these two got Marcone out of my place the better.

*-*-*-*  
It didn’t take Gard very long to explain what had happened, by saying as little as possible, of course. She wasn’t going to risk slipping something to a Warden of the White Council. Especially if it involved some shady magic and even less so if it involved Marcone's business.

Pretty much all I got from them was that Marcone had gone to a meeting, set up to strike a deal for something. I didn’t get that detail. But instead of the object, he got splashed with a clear liquid, fast enough that it had caught Gard, Hendricks and Marcone off guard.

The liquid had sunk into Marcone’s skin in an instant. They got out of there as fast as possible and Marcone had been fine, at least at first. But after an hour he went nuts, slugged Hendricks, and nearly wrenched Gard’s knee out of place in getting away from them.

“That's when he made his way here,” I summed up.

“Correct. He is clearly in the grip of a lust potion. He must have come to you for a reason, so you‘re going to have to have sex with him,” Gard said to me.

I gaped at her. From her cool expression she didn’t look like she was kidding.

Hilariously, Hendricks looked like a man who wanted to kill himself but was stuck trying to decide which one of his guns he wanted to use to accomplish the deed. I tried to not to feel sympathetic. Or ask that he shoot me first.

“Whoa, whoa before we do anything rash just give me a moment to try to analyze the potion that hit him. Let’s not make hasty decisions we‘ll, no doubt, later regret. Regret a lot,” I said, holding my hands up to stop this mad idea.

I shot Marcone an involuntary glance. The man was still eyeing me with the same kind of look I’d last seen on a hungry tiger that had just been given a bloody piece meat for it‘s lunch. I shivered. And he was still tugging at the restraints.

Relentless, thy name is Marcone. People called me the stubborn one.

I sent Fix a mental thank you for the unicorn hair rope. At least, I know that Marcone wouldn’t be able to get out of it, or loosen it enough to get to any knives to then cut himself free.

I grabbed a pair of scissors I had stashed by the phone before walking over to snip a bit of hair from him. I barely managed to avoid getting caught between Marcone’s legs. The rope wasn’t long enough to tie his legs down too and he had no compunction about trying to reel me in with them.

As I mentioned before the man was freakishly fast, and apparently part octopus.

Hendricks and Gard both looked unhappy at the tuft I held in my hand. I rolled my eyes at them. It wasn’t like I was going to use it to kill their boss; I was trying to help him.

“Will you both stop it. I thought last time pretty much proved that I‘m not going to kill him,” I grumbled and headed down to my lab.

“I want that back as soon as you‘re done,” Gard demanded, behind me.

Yeesh. What did a wizard have to do to get a little trust from those two?  
*-*-*-*

“Wait,” I said, holding up my left hand while rubbing my forehead with the other. “It‘s what type of what?”

“It’s a ‘Fuck or Die‘ curse.” Bob, my part-assistant, part skull, part all-around-pain-in-my-ass was sniggering. My head was threatening to start aching.

“You‘re joking. Lust potions don‘t work that way. They pretty much just wear off, they don‘t kill people.” My voice was reaching an embarrassingly high range. I cleared my throat.

“Haven‘t you been listening, Harry? It‘s a spell, not a potion.” Bob rolled his eyes, which was always a sight to see in a skull. “The spell was tied to the liquid which was the carrier but it‘s not a potion. It‘s the same principle as a cursed object only the ‘object’ in question is the liquid. And once it got on Marcone? Presto! Instant cursed mafia boss.”

Okay, yeah. I hadn’t really been listening; I kept getting distracted by the memories of Marcone’s kisses, his tongue and the feel of his warm hands sliding down my pants. It’s been months since I last got laid and it was showing. I needed to get a grip and stop thinking about how good being touched again felt. How good he felt.

“This is a dark spell. Real black magic stuff,” Bob said seriously. “It ties itself directly to a person‘s nervous system. Ramping them up higher and higher with lust until they can fuck it out of their system.”

“And if they don‘t, they die,” I added flatly.

“It shreds their brain, their entire nervous system, in a horribly painful way and they die,” Bob agreed cheerfully.

“So, I can just send Marcone off to enjoy one of his own high-end brothels and that‘ll be that.” I sighed in relief, stomped down firmly on the little bit of disappointment in my gut, and headed for the stairs.

“Oooh, Harry. You haven‘t heard about the little extra surprise this curse has.”

I froze.

“It gets worse?” I yelped. Of course it gets worse, who was I kidding? It’s practically my motto these days, it always gets worse. I’m thinking of getting pillows made.

Bob was back to sniggering, interposed with moments of leering. I was used to his ways but his enjoyment was really starting to freak me out. “Oh, yeah. Whoever came up with this little curse is a down-right nasty bastard. There‘s a component which makes the spell unbreakable unless the one be-spelled does the bedroom tango with someone he actually wants. Someone, he really has a hankering for but thinks that he can’t have, for whatever reason, before he got whammied. No one else will do. So…isn’t it interesting that Marcone heads straight-” Bob snickered at his choice of words. “-for you.”

That made me blink. “What?”

“Marcone wants to screw your brains out. Do the nasty. He wants to dance around your meat pole.”

I scrunched my eyes closed for a moment and groaned into my hands. “Never, ever say that again. As long as I live, never say those words to me ever again. And he does not.” I looked up to glare at Bob.

He just gave me that look, the look that said I was once again being an absolute moron. It was hardly a new look. I got it all the time from my nearest and dearest.

“He came here. To you. While high on the lust spell,” he smugly pointed out.

I’ve been hoping that if I ignored that it would go away, thank you, Bob. I didn’t need a reminder.

“There‘s nothing we can give him to break it?” I asked, a little desperately. Okay, a lot desperately. This was Marcone. I have no problem admitting to being more than a little freaked out.

Bob shook his skull in denial. “If tonight was a full moon, there would be a slim chance that he would last long enough to gather all necessary spell components before he died. But from how long you told me it‘s already been. He has maybe two hours left. Or one. Or none. ”

“Marcone‘s plenty tough,” I said. “I‘m betting on more.” I rubbed my head again, trying to kick my addled brain into some semblance of order. But before Bob or I could say anything else. I heard Mouse whine and Gard start shouting from above.

I rushed up the stairs. And stopped at the top, in shock.

John Marcone was convulsing.  
*-*-*-*

It was a panic inducing kind of moment, different in various ways than the sort of terror-filled moments I was used to dealing with, where I had to shove aside my surprise to unfreeze and get the rope off Marcone.

With Gard having to lay him out flat on the floor while she checked that he didn’t choke, while Hendricks and I held down his arms and legs to keep him from hurting himself as his body twisted and bowed against his control. Even Mouse helped by acting like a pillow and kept Marcone from cracking his head on my floor from the force of the convulsions, because carpeted or not, he would have concussioned himself.

It lasted an eternity. It lasted forty-five seconds.

It was a terrifying and long forty-five seconds, where none of us could do anything but wait it out.

There are too many times in my life were all the magic that I know is utterly useless. I really hate those moments. And I really, really hate it when it involved people I know.

Marcone woke up from the seizure after only a couple of minutes, frankly it felt more like an hour. He looked around in a dazed and confused fashion which I wasn’t at all used to seeing on the crime boss. The familiar flame of anger rolled in my gut. Whatever the hell kind of curse this was, no one deserved to be inflicted with it. Not even Gentleman Johnny Marcone.

“John,” I said catching his attention. His gaze fell on me and his expression sharpened.

“Dresden,” he said, sounding like himself, calm and collected, for the first time since he walked through my door. I was relieved.

Then, I quickly explained everything Bob had told me about the curse, ignoring the pained noises from Hendricks. I didn’t know how much longer Marcone would remain in his right mind, and I wanted him to get the facts. All of them.

Something, I had been pushing out of my mind, around the same time that Marcone had been pushing his tongue in my mouth for the umpteenth time, was that if anything happened between us while Marcone was under the spell, it would be rape. No matter how hard he was throwing himself at me, it wasn’t really him. It was the curse and it wouldn‘t be consensual. Even if Marcone did want me, he wasn‘t in control of his actions because under ordinarily circumstances he wouldn’t have done anything about it.

Hell, I wouldn’t even have known how he felt, that he wanted me, if the spell didn’t have its nasty twist that Bob managed to catch and explain.

So taking advantage of the situation would have made me scum. Lower than scum. And not the sort of guy I could stand to be around. This would make living with myself a little difficult. I refused to be that. I’ve spent too much time fighting my dark impulses to be sideswiped by a lust spell. Even if it wasn’t inflicted on me.

Marcone had to make the choice now, if he wanted this, while he was still lucid enough to make up his own mind without the influence of the lust spell. It was his life, his choice. I refused to take it out of his hands. There was also the nasty fact that Marcone could have me killed if he really wanted to and he was good enough at what he did that I probably wouldn’t see it coming. If I did, it wouldn’t be for very long.

There was a moment of silence as Marcone processed what I told him. I could see Gard frowning from the corner of my eyes, as she too thought it through. Yeah, the implications that the spell was most likely intended to kill Marcone, as opposed to just embarrassing him, that it was specifically created to have him dying in one of the most painful ways possible, wasn’t the sort of news that would please one of his bodyguards. Especially the one that was supposed to provide the magical protection.

Marcone looked at me again and whatever he saw in my eyes made up his mind. He told Hendricks and Gard, “I need you both to wait back in the car.” He paused and then added, “And have someone return the motorcycle to it‘s rightful owner.”

That made my eyebrows rise. Gard had said that Marcone had found a way here. She didn’t mention the interesting little fact that Marcone had gone and stolen a bike. They left without protest, though I could tell Hendricks wanted to kick up a fuss, but he was just too loyal and used to obeying his master’s orders. Good Cujo.

“This wasn‘t the sort of situation I saw myself in today,” Marcone told me as soon as we were alone.

“And I did?” I snorted. I stood up and offered him my hand. “All I wanted was to enjoy my day by reading a book and not have the world end. Obviously, it was too much to ask for.”

He used my hand to pull himself up but didn’t let go as soon as he was standing. If anything he tightened his grip, as if to keep me from running off. I bit back the urge to point out that this was my home and no mob boss, no matter how scary or deadly with a knife, would scare me away. It usually took a demon or horde of zombies to do that.

I tried not to squirm again at the piercing look he gave me.

“You don‘t have to do this. You don‘t owe me anything,” he said quietly. His grip on me wasn’t loosening, I noticed. Whatever else, he did want this. And he thought he would never get it, I remembered.

I scowled and glared at him. “I‘m not going to let you die. Not when I can do something about it.”

“You have never even slept with a man before,” Marcone said bluntly, his eyes still on me.

I twitched in surprise then flushed red. That was true. But then no man had really gone and tried to get in my pants before either. Nor have I ever been to college and given that infamous college experimentation thing a try. I hadn‘t even graduated from high school and getting a GED doesn’t exactly come with those sort of experiences.

I had discovered my interest in sex at roughly the same time as I had found my first love in Elaine. So, there had never been much of a reason to so much as look at other people, let alone men. It simply wasn’t an opportunity that had come up since. Oddly enough, it seems most men aren’t interested in a tall, gawky wizard for a bed partner. Color me surprised.

But Marcone’s kisses and fondling had felt too good for my own peace of mind. And if that had turned me on, there was a pretty good chance that sex with John Marcone would work out just fine to my satisfaction.

There was also the added factor of Marcone being someone I knew and respected. Sure the guy also scared the hell out of me and his business made me sick for numerous reasons but he’d also saved the lives of me and my friends when he didn’t have to and didn‘t stand to gain from it. I’ve trusted him to fight at my side. I’ve trusted him with my life, and even more importantly, I’ve trusted him with the lives of others, of innocents. There weren’t many people in my life I could say that about. And of the ones that I could, they were among my nearest and dearest. Marcone was an odd exception.

“Yeah, I don‘t think that‘s going to be a problem.” I told him. His expression remained skeptical. I rolled my eyes and used his grip on my hand to tug him closer to me and for the first time I initiated the kiss between us.

I started it slow. I admit I’m shy, and not one to go shoving their tongue down other people’s throat willy-nilly, unlike some people I could name.

So, I kissed him gently, slowly coaxing him into relaxing and meeting me at the same pace. I could feel his heart speeding up, from where my hand was placed at his neck, tilting his head to make us fit.

Marcone’s hands tightened on my hips, pulling me closer to him until heat of his body seeped in through my jeans and shirt. He groaned and opened his mouth. I slowly lapped at his teeth, teasing the corners of his mouth and letting him back into mine.

When I pulled back to breathe and Marcone followed me to press another kiss on my mouth before also pulling back.

I could see a flush starting in his cheeks, and his breathing was growing more rapid.

“Like I said John, it‘s really not going to be a problem,” I repeated, after clearing my throat. It still came out pretty hoarse.

John Marcone licked his lips and nodded slowly, finally accepting that I meant what I said.

Took him long enough. He was usually a lot faster on the uptake than this, but I was willing to let it go. That curse was frying his brain after all. And speaking of the curse, there really wasn’t much time left.

I tugged him in the direction of my bedroom. Might as well do this properly. Anyway, it wasn’t the sort thing I wanted to inflict on Mouse’s innocent eyes.

 

The lust curse spell started revving up again as soon was we walked into my bedroom. I could tell because of the way John started ripping at my clothes, and tearing off the buttons of my shirt. It was that special ability that I had to catch such subtle clues which made me a kick-ass gumshoe.

I pretty much left him at it. He was getting my clothes off faster than I could get them on. Instead, I tried to see if I could get him out of his suit. I was not going to be the only naked one here. That just made things awkward in my opinion. I can tell you that it’s certainly interesting taking off a tie from this side. It definitely took more concentration that I would have thought such an action entailed but then I kept getting pretty distracted. The sheer number of knives sheathed around his body made me pause more than once or twice and no, I can’t say how many I found. I lost track of them, because the weapons weren’t the most interesting thing in the room at that moment.

John kept pressing hot open-mouthed kisses to my neck as I tried to think if I had the kind of supplies a guy needs for this sort of activity. As, I said before, it’s been several months since I last got laid, so my memory was rather fuzzy about such details. I had to settle for some lube that was still within its expiration date and a condom that nearly wasn’t.

Like I said, it’s been a while.

Fortunately, what I lacked in experience didn’t seem to be a problem for John because he was certainly responding with enthusiasm, more than could be accounted for from the curse alone. That was rather flattering. And disconcerting.

It wasn’t too long before I was sprawled on back, feeling like a bag of catnip, from the hungry way that John was now nuzzling at my exposed collarbones and bare chest. His hands kept moving, as if eager to map every single inch of my skin while he still had the chance.

He lingered over my scars and I was rather grateful that he’d seen the mess that was my hand before today. It had been so badly burned that I could barely use it, and even now with it healing slowly but steadily I was embarrassed to go out in public without it covered up in a glove. Marcone didn’t even pause at the mass of scar tissue that passed for a hand at the end of my wrist.

If anything, I could tell from the way he looked at me, with his eyes blazing, that he was burning this moment, every detail of me, into his mind with all the intensity he could bring to bear. It was a rather humbling realization.

I couldn’t help but reciprocate, taking in his body with the same attention he was paying mine.

John Marcone certainly kept himself in great shape, and he was nearly as scarred as I was. That surprised me, but knowing what I knew about his life, it really shouldn’t have. He had old knife wounds, faded gun shot scars and even odd jagged lines that I couldn‘t even begin to guess the origins of, scattered across his chest, arms and even on his thighs. They stood as proof that he had treated his body nearly as harshly as I treated mine. The only one whose story I knew was the one that formed the top of his torn ear.

The others rather intrigued me. This secret history of John Marcone’s life, written on his skin. Not the sort of thing that you would be able to guess of him from his expensively tailored suits and custom leather Italian shoes. But I’d known from first meeting him, from when I first locked eyes and saw into his soul, that John was a fighter, a cold warrior, who did what he needed to do. His body just reflected what I had seen all those yeas ago.

“Harry,” said John, the desperation in his voice kicking me out of my contemplation. He was panting and his eyes were glazing over as the curse took greater control of him.

I pulled him against me, his hard erection settled against my own. His hips stuttered against mine and I gasped at the silken hot feel of him. His hands slip down my chest to tighten on my hips, his thumbs digging into the hollows.

“Harry,” he said again. I blinked at him; he was looking at me hungrily. “Please, Harry.”

I swallowed as I realized what he wanted and fumbled for the lube. Right. Now came the unexplored territory part that made me wish I had been more inventive in the bedroom in the past. I could have used the experience. I’ve never been shy in bed, leading up it sure, but not once the action started. But there are things I’ve never tried and only knew about from reading. You pick up a lot of random details from books, let me tell you. And this is was definitely a case where practical experience trumped book learning. Trust me, I knew what was coming next, but I didn’t know know it.

It made me more than a little nervous.

I uncapped the tube of lube with shaking fingers, swearing a little as I realized that I should have gone for the condom first. I grabbed the little plastic square and had to tear it with my teeth because my fingers were too slippery.

John’s breathing hitched as I rolled the condom over his hard and leaking cock. I barely had finished putting it on him when John pushed me down onto my back. Kissing me again, using his thigh to part my legs and his hands to hitch my hips up.

“Whoa, wait. Lube!” I said. I grabbed the tube and squirted a good dollop of the slippery stuff onto my fingers and palm. I reached between us and coated the latex of the condom over the crown of John’s cock, closing my fingers in a circle so my entire hand closed on him.

John gasped and then groaned at my touch. The wildness in his eyes grew to greater levels, and I knew I was tearing apart any measure of control he had with my touch. But the lube was necessary. Just because I had a high pain threshold didn’t mean that I liked pain. I wasn’t going into this without a lot of lube greasing the rails, so to speak.

Yeah, I really can’t help it; I make jokes when I feel over my head.

John flipped me onto my stomach in a lightning fast move that made me yelp in surprise.

He pressed a palm flat against my neck, sliding it down my spine, surprisingly gentle, until it hit the curve of my ass. Then his other hand slipped between my cheeks and I nearly jumped at the cool slick feel of them.

I stopped breathing at the feel of his fingers just pressing in. My tension made John pause.

“Harry,” he gritted. “You have to relax.”

I looked over my shoulder at him. I could see the effort to control himself and not just press into me was making him shake. He was biting at his lower lip hard enough that it would soon start bleeding.

Right, I had to relax. I forced myself to take a few deep breaths, letting my muscles go from rigid to jello in about three seconds. I never thought I’d used such mental techniques for this. Once, I was certain I was as relaxed as I was going to get, I languidly spread my legs wider to let him know.

“Fuck, Harry,” John growled.

I was blinking my bemusement at my pillows at the sound of John Marcone cursing, when the head of his cock pressed against the ring of muscles at my ass and breached it.

I gasped and my back arched, even as relaxed as I was, the penetration was a still shock of unfamiliar sensation to my system.

John panted and slowly, so freaking slowly, slid into me. It hurt less than I thought it would, but then, pain and I were too well acquainted in the past. The stretch of him inside me felt more like a sting and low burn, than anything that would make me want to stop. It also helped that John was clearly fighting the curse, tooth and nail because he was a lot more considerate and gentle than I’d thought he’d be. More than I thought I could be if in his place.

Some measure of sanity returned to him, as he rested fully inside of me. He looked at me with this glimmer of hot amazement, which made me want to squirm as I caught it out of the corner of my eyes. I pretended I had not seen it.

“If you could only see how I see you, Harry,” he murmured against my neck. He pressed open mouthed kisses to my shoulder.

I could feel every centimeter of his cock and it was all I could do not to yell at him to hurry up. I wasn’t able to bite back a groan though, nor the small hitch of my hips jerking towards him. But all he did was tighten his grip on me, stilling my movement.

“Damn it, John,” I moaned. Who was the one inflicted with the lust curse here? It felt like I was the one that was going to die. “Move!”

All I got for an answer was a low growl that sent my heartbeat skyrocketing to higher speeds.

He started a slow but steady pace, shoving me back onto the pillows of my bed with every deep thrust. I braced myself with my forearms, and dropped my head at every jolt of electrical pleasure that shot through me. Which only intensified when Marcone shifted me to my knees and reached around to grab my erection.

It seemed to last an eternity, the feel of him pressing in and out of my body, his thrusts turning short but powerful. I honestly lost track of time, too involved in indulging in the pleasure and feel of another human being. Of enjoying the simple human act of sex that was older than recorded civilization.

It wasn’t just my normal senses that were being overwhelmed even my magical ones were buzzing. Until we reached a crescendo of energy and movement that shattered into an orgasm so intense I lost my breath.

John wasn’t far behind me, and I could feel the dark energy that had been powering the curse shift out of his body and into the air before dissipating like a faint stream of smoke, until no trace was left.

I blinked in surprise, and tried to force my fuzzy post-coital thoughts into some semblance of order.

John pulled himself out and off of me, making me grumble just a bit. He sprawled at my side, pulling off the condom and tying it off, dropping it into the waste basket at the side of my bed. That seemed to sap the last of his energy, for he barely had wrapped an arm around my shoulders to pull me close to him that he dropped off into sleep.

I considered the wonderful idea that this was and followed his example. A nap did sound like heaven.  
*-*-*-*

When I woke up again, it had only been about an hour since I’d fallen unconscious in the first place. I spent a few minutes, staring in amusement at big bad Johnny Marcone, sleeping with his face tucked under my chin and his arms wrapped firmly around my waist.

I pondered the blackmail potential the knowledge of a cuddling John, but I regretfully let the idea go. Who would I threaten to tell? And how would I explain how I came upon such knowledge? Really, I should just let my amateur black mailing skills lay fallow.

I squirmed out of his grip, grabbed a clean pair of boxers from my dresser drawers and pulled on the jeans that had been crumbled onto the floor.

I found my scissors and I took another hair sample from John. I guess the guy was pretty worn out because he didn’t so much as twitch. I wasn’t exactly being stealthy about it either. I headed back down to my lab for a quick test. I wanted to make sure that the curse had run its course. The last thing I needed was for it to start up again unexpectedly and I needed Bob to make sure that I didn‘t miss anything. I was fairly certain it was gone, but this definitely a case for being safer rather than sorry.

I regretted going down there at once. Because as soon as I was off the stairs, Bob started wolf-whistling.

“Congratulations Harry! Becoming a male moll to Chicago‘s premier mafia lord. Talk about picking the best possible sugar daddy!” Bob grinned at me, one of the orange lights in his sockets blinked out for a moment before flicking back.

Did Bob just wink at me? I scowled. What the hell was a male moll? And sugar daddy? I was not that hard up for money!

“Bob, don‘t call me that.” I finally said indignantly. My eyes narrowed into a heated glare. “Keep it up and you‘ll be sleeping with the fishes. Or maybe, I’ll find a pit of drying cement to throw you in.”

Bob shut up, with an audible click of his jaws, and a rather cowed expression on his bony face.

I grinned widely, and got him to start the test.

As, I waited on the results I thought hard thoughts. If there was a dark sorcerer out there I’d have to go after him or her. Though, the chances of getting John to tell me what the hell was going on was pretty slim.

The man did try to keep my nose out of his business as much as possible these days. By the time I was dragged in, everyone was up to their asses in crocodiles and the water was beginning to boil. Maybe just this once, I could get in before it got to the point where the city was in danger of being blown off the map.

Hey, it could happen.

I got the results from Bob, which came out green across the board. There wasn’t a chance of the curse resurging later on like some curses could under the right circumstances.

The results also told me what I pretty much suspected; whoever came up with this little slice of evil intended it to kill John. They would definitely learn of the sort of repercussions that came from practicing dark magic where a Warden of the White Council held territory. I’d probably be the better alternative to a pissed off Gentleman Johnny Marcone, anyway, even with the automatic death sentence that this spell would guarantee the sorcerer.

I nodded to myself, decision made and headed up the steep stairs to try to talk John into letting me in on this battle. I had become involved from the moment he’d shown up at my door, and I would end it.

I found John still sleeping in my bed and debated whether I should wake him. I wimped out and went back to my living room to check up on Mouse. It was about time he got out to take care of his business. Mister should be coming back soon from his evening patrol and terrorizing of the neighborhood pets.

I was also grateful for the extra time to get my thoughts together. I wasn’t too sure how to handle this morning after.

On average, I don’t do one night stands. I get too emotionally invested. This thing with John felt like it could be more than that. I wasn’t too sure how to deal with it. So, I was hiding. Well, as much as a guy could hide from another man while in his own apartment.

I was just hanging up the phone from calling the pizza place with my usual order when John padded out of my room, barefoot and still disheveled, wearing his inner shirt but those jeans were definitely mine.

It made me pause. Honestly, I was expecting to see him back into his armor, because that’s what it was, that impeccable exterior and expensive suit said ‘Look But Don’t Touch’ as loud as any billboard advertisement with flashing lights.

I wasn’t expecting to see him with his defenses down. It totally knocked me on my ass, emotionally speaking. Though, it probably would have quite literally if I hadn’t been sitting on my couch. Sleepy eyes, stuck up hair and a loose emotional barriers. Heat pooled in my gut and my mouth went dry. Okay, so apparently that worked for me.

John sat next to me and raised his hands up to my face to cradle my jaw in his palms. He looked at me for a moment, staring into my eyes, searching for what I did not know, but before I could ask a smile curled up on his mouth and he held me still and kissed me.

I kissed him back.

He took that as an invitation to practically crawl into my lap, pushing me back into the sofa cushions and just about devouring me with his mouth.

The hardness I could feel on my hip told me he was more than up for another round. I know, I’m punning again, I blame the endorphins still rushing happily through my system. I indulged in the delightfully satisfying feel of human warmth against my body before pulling regretfully away.

“Harry,” John scolded. His pale green eyes were going fierce with lust again, I noted.

“We need to talk first,” I insisted, though my own erection was making it hard to remember why I needed to have this conversation. I shifted, wishing I hadn’t put on my jeans again. I should really have chosen something with more give.

John took that pause to grind down against me, making me lose my train of thought for a couple of minutes.

Oh, right, dark evil wizard who nearly killed the man in my arms. Right.

“John,” I groaned. My hips lifted up against his utterly against my own volition.

“I want you to fuck me,” he growled, his mouth barely an inch from my own, his eyes were like green lasers, burning me with their gaze and intensity.

I gaped at him, all mental processes utterly wiped out with those words. My eyes closed and I moaned. Just the idea was more than I could take, and it took every centimeter of self-control I had not to hump against him.

I had to remind myself that I had used the last of the supplies earlier. I also had to ignore the part of my mind that was insisting it would be easy to make substitutes. I wrested my libido under my control.

“Fuck, John. Yes, but later. Rain check?” I asked weakly. My hands gripped the couch cushions in a white knuckled grip. If I reached out to him, I’d be lost.

John paused and shifted away from me, not going far, just simply sitting next to me.

I opened my eyes to see him looking surprised then his eyebrows raised and a thoughtful look to his eyes that caught my attention.

“You want to do this again?”

I blinked at him. There was an odd tone to his voice that took me a moment to place as hesitancy. I had startled him with my offer. I was reminded all over again about the twist to the curse and that from John’s point of view I had only indulged him to save his life. That I had also enjoyed myself had only been a happy coincidence.

“Yeah,” I said and cleared my throat. “That‘s one of the things we‘ve got to talk about.”

I could almost see the defenses coming up with my words. The mask of cool indifference settling on his features like a physical object. I scowled and hauled him to me for a fierce kiss. He resisted me for all but a moment, before his ice melted away, and he kissed me back.

“And that‘s another of the things we got to talk about,” I said, gently against his mouth. I held him against me, dropping my head down to nuzzle at his neck.

“I‘m not going to change,” he said, knowing exactly what I meant. “The things I do and how I do them, are necessary.”

I sighed, “I know. I‘ve seen that in you.”

This was a conundrum.

I tilted my head back, John settled against me, his hands stroking my sides. “I can‘t stand your business. But there‘s no reason why we can‘t have an alliance.”

John chuckled. “Are you talking business, Harry? I wouldn‘t have expected that of you.”

I grumbled. Why did no one think that I could be mature and act in a rational manner?

“I was thinking of it being an alliance between Lord Marcone and Warden Dresden and a more personal relationship between John and Harry,” I continued.

“I offered you something similar before,” John said.

I snorted derisively, “No you didn’t, you wanted me working for you. This isn‘t going to be that sort of thing. No money, no contracts, just…just us.”

John was silent. I could see that the idea of leaving himself so open to betrayal was making him uneasy. He had to trust me, trust my word that I would help him when he needed it, that I wouldn’t leave him to face the oncoming fire without providing cover.

“We spend enough time as it is saving each other lives at one point or another,” I argued. “Only you‘d actually be able to call me up for help before you get to the point where you‘re about to get kidnapped by the forces of evil.”

John’s mouth quirked at that. “And I have the man-power to provide quite a lot of resources at your behest.”

I nodded and looked into his eyes with all the intensity I could bring to bear. “You want to protect Chicago as much as I do. Help me protect its people from the monsters, John.”

He drew in a sharp breath. “If I agree to this alliance,” he said as he pulled himself back into my lap, still staring into my eyes. He continued, “What about this?” His hands came up to my face, tilting my head back. His thumbs drifted lightly against my bottom lip.

“I would not easily give you up,” John said quietly. There was a dangerous air about him, and I was reminded yet again, how easily this man found it to kill those that got in his way.

I raised my eyebrows at him. “I don‘t exactly jump from bed to bed like a playboy.” He stared at me. “We can give it a chance,” I finally admitted slowly. “That‘s all I can promise you.”

He nodded in agreement. He was still in deep in thought, weighing the pros and cons of what I’d proposed when the pizza arrived.

I took the moment of paying for the pizza, setting aside the extra box for Toot Toot and his friends before getting back to the couch, to settle my own nerves. What I was asking was a radical change in our dynamic. Usually, he showed up unexpectedly and I grumbled about it. The rest of the time we didn’t so much as cross paths, much less talk to each other if we could help it. This thing, a relationship between us would be new. New and quite possibly, insane.

“Also, there‘s a dark wizard out there, the one who made that curse, that I need to take down. Before he comes around checking to see if his little spell worked. I don‘t want to have to replace my door. Again,” I said, after I swallowed down my bite of a fifth slice of pizza. Physical exertion makes me hungry.

“Your door needs to be replaced, anyway,” John said. He’d heard the effort I’d taken to shove it open when the pizza arrived and hadn’t been impressed.

“Hey, the difficulty of getting it open is a safety feature,” I said with a mock offended tone and eyed him with narrowed eyes. A man’s home was his castle, he didn’t need to make fun of my castle.

John shot me an amused look.

“So, what do you say? Are we teaming up?” I asked.

“You have stated more than once what you thought of me, of the things I do,” John said quietly.

“Yeah,” I said, even though it hadn’t been a question. But if anything the last couple of years had shown me, that when it come to the magical forces of darkness, we were both on the same side. Evil would gun for us equally. Pooling our resources together now would actually be more beneficial in the long run than simply waiting for us to be forced to work together just to survive the current crisis.

There was also the fact that I wasn’t the same rash wizard who’d first been forced to make John’s acquaintance in the back of his car. My views on darkness, and evil had developed more shades of grey than I was comfortable admitting. John was harsh and ruthless, capable of cold calculation that I couldn’t begin to grasp, but as much as I disagreed with his methods I also knew he cared for innocent bystanders and would rather suffer himself than let them be hurt. I admired that.

I had learned more of the motivation that drove John, since that initial meeting, than I had ever learned from the soul-gaze. I’d also faced such evil, truly evil beings, that John’s brand of darkness looked pale in comparison. I could live with John, the man, even if Marcone the mobster drove me up the wall.

“This isn’t a one time offer,” I said, as I wiped my greasy fingers on a napkin that held the logo of the pizza place. I didn’t want to pressure him. I really did want him to think it through. I had a feeling we’d be leaning on each other a lot in the future if he did agree, so I wanted him to be sure.

I continued, not looking at him as I did. “You don’t have to give me an answer about it now. That’s business. On the personal note, well… you already have my answer.” I had to fight off a blush. You’d think that after what we did in the bedroom I wouldn’t be blushing now. I really hated how easily I did that.

John chuckled at my side and I flickered up my eyes to see him smiling at me, in a pleased and hungry way that had nothing to do with the pizza.

I turned a brighter shade of red, and made my escape to get dressed for the outdoors.

I half expected him to follow me to my bedroom, but he understood my urgency at going after this dark sorcerer and left me alone instead of trying for round two. I was a little disappointed. Hey, I’m only male. I shook off those thoughts and tried to plan some sort of strategy.

The faster I struck to take down this dark sorcerer the better. I had the element of surprise on our side. He, or she, since evil really was an equal opportunity kind of occupation, had to think that John was down for the count, and with him went the knowledge of where to find him. As for me, they would either think I was utterly unaware of the presence of dark magic so close to Chicago, or had been there to see John die a nasty screaming death. Which, would be enough to throw me off balance.

No matter what, they wouldn’t see me coming that was certain. A rather hot glow of satisfaction filled me at that thought. It wasn’t often I got to shock the hell out of the bad guy. I was rather looking forward to it.

I pulled on my duster, gathered a few magical doodads I thought I would need, made sure my shield bracelet was firmly tied around my wrist and got ready to kick evil ass. I came out of my bedroom to see John setting down the phone back onto its cradle. I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Transport,” he said. “I don‘t trust your… automobile to make it down the block, let alone to the outskirts of Chicago.”

First insulting my home and now my car? Why did I save this guy again?

“Ms. Gard, and Mr. Hendricks will be joining us shortly,” he continued. “We will be joining you in taking down this sorcerer.”

Alright, so John had a point when it came to the Blue Beetle. Four tall people is my small car was just inviting the clown jokes to start.

“Mouse is coming along,” I warned him, after a moment. I thought about arguing about him joining me, but that was would be a rather stupid argument considering I had just been trying to convince him of the idea of an alliance between us. So, I bit back my protests.

My dog’s head came up, his jaws dropped into his doggie grin and he looked beseechingly at John. I just knew that John had no ability to resist that adorable furry face.

“Very well,” John said, he stood and vanished into my bedroom. To finish getting dressed I guessed. I armed up with my gun, staff and blasting rod. I had to drop down to the lab to fish out my kinetic rings from where I had left them on my desk. I’d been trying improve the speed on which they absorbed energy so they wouldn’t take so long to recharge. They were a little better now, but nowhere near where I wanted them to be.

Bob canned the commentary for once, but his low snickers weren’t as inaudible as he thought they were. I ignored him and headed back upstairs. I dreaded to think what was going through his little perverted mind, and I really didn’t want to know, or hear it, either.

Ms. Gard and Hendricks couldn’t have gone far when they left my apartment earlier, because it was mere minutes after the phone call that there was a knock on my door. I opened the door cautiously, just in case, I had enough surprises today, but it was just them.

I didn’t even have to call for John before he made it out my bedroom, back into this Gentleman Johnny Marcone mode. I tried not to grimace. I do have some measure of control when it comes to my smart ass remarks, when I can be bothered to remember to use it. I just usually don’t.

I bowed mockingly, holding the door open for him. He gave me a look, his mouth curving just enough to show me he was amused at my antics.

Hendricks looked pleased that his boss was intact and back to normal although he kept shooting me dirty looks. I got the feeling the didn’t want me tagging along on this shindig. Well, tough. I glowered right back at him as I pulled my grinding door close behind us.

John, Ms. Gard and Mouse ignored us both. Clearly, they were the more mature ones here.

“Time to make someone else have a really, really bad day,” I told my dog, as we trailed after John and his people to a black, and no doubt heavily armored with bullet-proof panels, SUV. I wondered how wizard-proof it was and how long it would last before I killed it. When it died I would try not to gloat too openly, I solemnly promised myself. Though I probably would for the honor of the Blue Beetle.

John glanced back to me and my insides quivered. A warm feeling suffused throughout my body but I refused to smile like a besotted teenage girl where Hendricks could see it.

Okay, so my quiet day hadn’t been completely wasted.

I tightened my grip on my staff and smiled.

End.


End file.
